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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048952">The Undocumented Events of March 28th</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubb/pseuds/bubb'>bubb</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Talespin (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Shere Khan babysits Kit and Molly fic because I dont think one of those exists, Shere khan has a husband because you can’t prove he doesnt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:34:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,813</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29048952</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bubb/pseuds/bubb</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Shere Khan's reluctant transition into the role of Uncle Khan. Meanwhile, Bagheera pops in and out to repeatedly ask "Are ya winning, husband?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bagheera/Shere Khan (Jungle Book)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Undocumented Events of March 28th</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the 28th of March, 2:27pm. and Cape Suzette's wealthiest tycoon was residing in his natural habitat, sifting through papers and apathetically sealing fates with the irrefutability of his jagged tipped signature. </p><p>The spacious office gathered pockets of darkness in every corner, sans a sliver of glass between the window screens, opened just a crack behind his desk. A burst of pale, afternoon sunlight cast a shadow-woven carpet from his chair, throwing it down the lengthy walkway. A suitably imposing welcome for allies and enemies alike. </p><p>At first glance, one might presume Shere Khan was going about business as usual. However... as inconvenient as it may be, this was not the case. </p><p>It had been predetermined that, starting today, Shere Khan would be... <em> enjoying </em> a long weekend off. The ridiculousness of the statement was not lost on him. Rather, he would be the first to comment that it seemed perfectly out of character, and just how he had agreed to such a proposition, well, he was still trying to figure that out.</p><p>A difficult predicament to be in, yes, given that one may have a hard time escaping work life when one's living accommodations hovered just a floor above their office space. </p><p>This had been considered in advance. So, with the understanding that you simply could not rid Shere Khan of his duties entirely, the prerequisites of the arrangement were that he must postpone all meetings set for the next three days and have the landline in his office temporarily disconnected. </p><p>Though he had agreed to cooperate, there was no harm in nipping easy buds in the form of spare paperwork from his desk drawer. Just to keep himself occupied until Bagheera returned. </p><p>Bagheera was a source of endless speculation to anybody under the thumb of Khan Industries. Just two short years ago, the dignified panther had captured a position of employment as one of Shere Khan's elite pilots and had then quickly begun climbing the rank. </p><p>Where he stood currently was something akin to an assistant to Shere Khan. Or maybe the terms ‘advisor’ or ‘right hand man’ would be more accurate. Quite honestly,the specifics of Bagheera’s exact job remained a mystery to many.. </p><p>It was common knowledge that Bagheera had a seat at the table, concerning most of Shere Khan's decisions. Which was astonishing, considering the calculating tiger was not known to take business advice from anyone. </p><p>At least, that had been the case before Bagheera. </p><p><em> “So, what is it about him exactly?” </em> They were prone to ask around. What had he done to earn both his status and Shere Khan's unwavering respect? </p><p>He had proven himself to be nobody's Yes Man so maybe it was the backbone it took to speak his mind that Shere Khan admired. </p><p>Chester from marketing had attempted to test this theory. During a meeting, he had loudly vocalized his disdain for a particular investment that Shere Khan was in favor of, even being so bold as to imply the tiger's intelligence was lacking on that day. </p><p>Chester from marketing had been terminated on the spot, as had the theory. </p><p>Perhaps it was something simple. Everyone knew Shere Khan valued hard work and nobody worked harder than Bagheera. </p><p>Other than Shere Khan himself, he was the very last employee to clock out at night and the very first to arrive every morning. Nobody could say for certain just how many hours he stayed overtime. He just always seemed to <em> be there. </em> Almost as though he wasn't leaving the tower at all. </p><p>That theory was promptly dismissed as preposterous. Of course, Bagheera had to go home at some point. He was evidently well groomed, always dressed in fresh clothes, and seemed well rested enough to function properly. Where could he possibly be maintaining himself? Mr. Khan's office? Obviously, the boss wouldn't allow something so unprofessional, no matter how trusted a colleague he was. </p><p>Though these hypotheses were intended to be kept underwraps among the staff, a whisper or two had eventually reached Bagheera's ears and, by proxy, Shere Khan's.</p><p>(Bagheera had found it all rather amusing. “No doubt you've heard the news, Khan,” He would say, in an exaggerated boastful manner. “Apparently, I've worked twenty four hours straight every day for the last year or so! I suppose I'll be receiving a hefty bonus for my overtime?”</p><p>“Oh, most certainly. It's a wonder Khan Industries has stayed afloat all these years without you oh so diligently passing out at exactly nine p.m. every single night.” He responded dryly. “Regarding your bonus, what would you say to an extra steamed vegetable on your dinner plate tonight?”</p><p>Bagheera had then made a point to inform Shere Khan that he was not funny. Shere Khan respectfully disagreed.)</p><p>From an objective standpoint, Shere Khan perceived it as selective obliviousness. He would not be <em> thrilled </em> per say if the truth of the matter were to be discovered but, nonetheless, he was surprised he had not heard so much as an inkling suspicion of such a thing. Usually, anything with scandalous implications was quick to pick up steam in the rumor mill.</p><p>Not that he and Bagheera weren't subtle but there was certainly enough wiggle room for an assumption of the like to become tangible. </p><p>But no. It seemed the general perception of Shere Khan's character worked as an excellent smoke screen. Or perhaps.... they simply understood how unthinkable or even dangerous it could be to spread <em> those </em> sorts of rumors about their employer.</p><p>Whatever the reason, Shere Khan and Bagheera were not complaining. After all, when personal affairs were concerned, they were extremely private people.</p><p>Besides themselves, there were a handful of others who could say with certainty what exactly was going on. Not anyone Shere Khan would have voluntarily told, but at the very least, people trusted not to go running their mouths.</p><p>Baloo was a longtime friend to Bagheera and one (Bagheera) might argue, also to Shere Khan. Luckily, he was enough of an infamous fool that not a soul would believe him if he drank a little too much at that confounded ape operated establishment and wound up blabbing about how his <em> “good pal, Baggy and big scary Mister Khan have been rowin' the same canoe for a while now, if ya catch my drift.” </em></p><p>(Shere Khan recoiled internally at how naturally that sentence came to him and how clear Baloo's voice was in mind, drunken slur and all. He needed to restrict the time spent in that oaf's company to prevent picking up any more of his inane speech patterns.) </p><p>And then there was another prominent secret keeper. </p><p>Shere Khan had done a terrific job of making Ms. Rebecca Cunningham loathe him so vehemently that she couldn't stand the taste of his own name on her tongue. She would not be speaking on the subject, and if she could help it, any other subjects that he was involved in. </p><p>He chuckled to himself, entertaining the idea of ‘Shere Khan’ being considered a curse word in Ms. Cunningham's household. He imagined that boy of theirs, stubbing his toe, yelping <em> “SHERE KHAN!” </em> and being punished for the next two weeks. </p><p>The mental image momentarily brought the boy himself to Shere Khan's attention before he quickly dismissed it as nothing to fret over. Regardless of what Baloo had told him, if Shere Khan knew one thing about children, the very last thing they cared about were the interpersonal relationships between adults.</p><p>It was, perhaps, the one thing Shere Khan had in common with children. </p><p>With a slow, deliberate stretch of the wrist, he trailed the line of ink across paper, stalling the completion of his remaining form-filling, lest he find himself idle as he waited. </p><p>Fortunately, it was at that moment he heard the familiar <em> ding </em> of the elevator, followed by the swift <em> whoosh </em> of automatic doors. </p><p>Shere Khan brightened, glancing up to set sights on the person he deemed the object of his utmost unprofessionalism, only for his small smile to instantly disintegrate. </p><p>Something was amiss. Instead of his usual polite greeting upon arrival and the casual stroll he would take to Shere Khan's desk, Bagheera was currently tearing his way down the office, expression hard and eyes locked on the tiger he was rapidly approaching. </p><p>At first, Shere Khan was led to believe that Bagheera was angry with him. He racked his brain, frenzied as he tried to remember what he could have possibly done wrong before the panther closed in on him. </p><p>They had a bit of a squabble two weeks ago, yes. But Shere Khan had been under the impression that the disagreement was resolved once he had agreed to this little vacation. Bagheera had seemed satisfied, at least. Happy even. So why was....?</p><p>But upon closer inspection, Shere Khan found it to be something else. </p><p>It was Bagheera's hands that gave him away. What were most likely <em> intended </em> to be tightly balled fists, were loose clenched fingers itching nervously into his palms. </p><p>So, Bagheera was anxious, that was nothing new. But why he was storming towards him with an air of bravado and attempting to....intimidate him(?) with that threatening look in his eye, Shere Khan hadn't the faintest clue. </p><p>It was such an uncharacteristic technique for Bagheera that it set off at least one alarm bell. </p><p>Keep in mind, this was the same man who did not harbor an ounce of fear towards Shere Khan whatsoever, despite being a perfectly sane individual with a functioning brain and a more than basic consideration for his own safety. He had looked Shere Khan dead in the eye and said words no other soul would dare say, and he did so with a confident grin stretching his muzzle. </p><p>Truth be told, how bold he had gotten towards the most powerful man in the city <em> did </em> have something to do with Bagheera's intelligence. It just wasn't a lack thereof, as one might assume. </p><p>Shere Khan cocked his head, looking to Bagheera, in a nonverbal question. </p><p>“Hey, Kit, how come that plant's got teeth?”</p><p>“I dunno, just dont touch it. Thing’s freaky.”</p><p>And that was when Shere Khan entirely lost his already feeble grasp on the situation. </p><p>Though usually observant, Bagheera's unusual demeanor had distracted him, so he had failed to notice them at first. Which would not be <em> that </em>stupid of him, if they were not far more perceptible than the pitch black panther who tended to melt into the room's darkness.</p><p>It appeared they had slipped in behind Bagheera and were trotting at his heels, the bigger one tugging the small by the hand. </p><p>But before he could even fully register <em> this </em> new development, he was captured by a pair of blinking, yellow spotlights. </p><p>Bagheera had not only reached Shere Khan's desk, but had immediately plunged into his personal bubble, eyes blazing. </p><p>“You're not going to like this.” He whispered fiercely. “But please, do behave yourself until the children are out of earshot.”</p><p>Shere Khan was admittedly thrown off, but kept his expression stony as he stared back at Bagheera, the two passing a back-and-forth exchange of silent questions and answers. (Namely <em> “May I ask what is happening?” “I promise I'll explain everything when I can. Now, slap on your most wholesome pussy cat face.” </em>) </p><p>Once satisfied, Bagheera drew away, and in a snap, the ferocity was gone, replaced by the affable disposition he usually affected for others, as he turned his warm smile on their tiny visitors. </p><p>Shere Khan took this moment to actually regard the two of them, intending to dissect their body language for any signs of mischievous tendencies. As a former child himself, he could testify that any person under the age of fifteen should not, under any circumstances, be trusted. </p><p>The boy was standing to his full height, with his chin tipped upwards, eyeing Shere Khan warily. One hand was grasping the girl's and the other was fidgeting with the hem of his shabby, green sweater. He seemed to have not yet decided if he was happy to be here or not. </p><p>Shere Khan recognized him almost immediately. It was the boy he had been considering not a few minutes prior, Baloo's pre-adolescent navigator and charge. </p><p>While he didn't have an opinion set in stone of this child, he had proven himself to be brave and precocious in almost all of Shere Khan's experiences with him. On the sliding scale of his feelings towards people, he decided that the boy exceeded 'Indifference' and edged just shy of  'Approval' territory. </p><p>Granted, that was only fueled by the sparse information he had. Shere Khan had no idea about anything else, such as his name or how in the world he ended up under Baloo's wing. </p><p>Regarding the former, he knew he had heard it a few times before, but as of now, it was escaping him. The only known title coming to mind was 'Little Britches' which puzzled Shere Khan to no end as, from what he had observed, the child did not wear trousers, little or otherwise. </p><p>As for the latter, Baloo's life was such a parody of an existence that Shere Khan was prepared to believe anything from 'biological son' to 'orphan found in a dumpster' to 'bear-like specimen, spawned from the mold under Baloo's bed.'</p><p>He turned his attention to the girl, only to find there was nothing particularly notable about her. She was a small, honey furred bear cub, decorated with frills and ribbons. She gazed at Shere Khan with overt curiosity, clueless to the fact that her current whereabouts and company could be considered lethal, if under different circumstances. </p><p>That was the thing with smaller ones, wasn't it? Naivety. A complete lack of social awareness and mental development. If she couldn't yet grasp the weight of the power Shere Khan held in this world, then he really had no interest in learning anything else about her. </p><p>He was confident that his presumptions would be enough to get him by. She was a sister or cousin or little companion to the boy, so he could at least be relied on to reign her in if she became hyper. She most likely had sticky fingerprints and asked an abundance of tedious questions. Children of that sort usually came in her size. </p><p>“Children.” Said Bagheera, setting his paws down on their respective shoulders. “I believe you're familiar with Mr. Khan.”</p><p>Shere Khan adopted a smile of his own, fully aware that it was a gesture that many found deeply unsettling when presented on <em> his </em> face. Unfortunately, pleasant expressions did not come naturally to him, so what was he <em> supposed </em> to do?</p><p>The boy nodded, not daring to take his eyes off the tiger. He did not yet look at ease. “Yeah, we've met. Uh, thanks for the trophy....and the hammock....and uh, those couple times you showed up when we were in hot water…”</p><p>“It was my pleasure.” Said Shere Khan, wondering just how long he was to perform the niceties until Bagheera enlightened him as to why there were Lilliputians in his office. </p><p>“If I recall correctly, the trophy and hammock were given as tokens of my appreciation for the services you and your--....Baloo had provided. They were rightfully earned,” He paused, fixing the boy with an expectant look. “Mr....?”</p><p>It took a second for what he had said to register with the boy, but once it did, his bottom lip fell agape and his brow scrunched, flashing what may have been a snarl. </p><p>“Cloudkicker?!” He blurted incredulously, sounding just short of outraged. “Kit Cloudkicker?! We've met like…” He cut himself off to mumble under his breath, hastily counting on his fingers, before throwing up the digits for Shere Khan to see. “Four times! A-and one of those times, I helped save your life!”</p><p>It was then that Shere Khan remembered once jotting down that exact name, for the inscription on a placating award, and thinking to himself what a strange name it was. It occurred to him that he may have to tentatively stroke ‘biological son’ off his list of assumptions about Kit Cloudkicker. </p><p>If Baloo's surname was, or had ever been Cloudkicker, there was no doubt that Shere Khan would have several memories of his twelve year old self mocking the bear relentlessly. </p><p>“Yes,” Shere Khan replied smoothly, studying Kit, who had stomped over to stand just at the edge of his desk, looking significantly irritated. “And not once, did you ever formally introduce yourself.”</p><p>Kit's fire fizzled out as the statement sank in. With a quick once-over of his close proximity to Shere Khan, who was fixing him with a piercing stare, it dawned on him what he had impulsively marched into. He staggered back, as if electrocuted and bumped against Bagheera's leg.</p><p>“Well, in fairness to the boy,” The panther spoke up, sounding a little huffy himself, as he braced Kit's frame to steady him. “You never went out of your way to <em> ask </em> for his name, until now.”</p><p>Kit glanced up at Bagheera, looking just as astounded as Shere Khan felt. The reinforcement seemed to revive some semblance of the boy's confidence, as he declared “Yeah! Bagheera’s right!”</p><p>"<em>Thank you, </em> Bagheera." Said Shere Khan, in a clipped voice. </p><p>Bagheera countered it with a sharp smile, before nodding pointedly to the offended party in question. </p><p>Kit was glowering at Shere Khan, arms knotted, as if he expected an expression of regret. </p><p>Irked enough, Shere Khan he was tempted to inform him that they inhabited an extremely superficial and condescending world, where most people of importance were not going to value anything Kit had to say, much less learn his name, until he had grown several inches and had at least one college diploma to said name. </p><p>He held his tongue, however, as saying that to a child, was something Bagheera may not consider “behaving” himself.</p><p>Shere Khan sighed, lacing his fingers together and propping himself forward as he met Kit's gaze. “My sincerest apologies, Mr. Cloudkicker. I can assure you that it won’t happen again.”</p><p>While Shere Khan was a master of <em> concealing </em> emotions, he admittedly fell short when it came to feigning them. He had probably never looked less sincere in his life. </p><p>This was proven as likely by Kit’s unimpressed look. He huffed, his eyes flicked to the ceiling and down again, in an utterly inappropriate display of attitude, before opting to drop the subject. “Yeah, okay. <em> Fine.</em>” </p><p>(Shere Khan was polite enough to pretend he didn’t hear the boy quietly grumble “Last time I save <em> your </em>hide.”)</p><p>“Although, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting…” Shere Khan paused, noting the soft, strained noises and the <em> thump thump thump </em> of a little hand feeling around his desk “....this young lady.” </p><p>She was barely tall enough to peer over the surface, but just enough that her vision could lock on what appeared to be an ornate silver dagger, situated by a stack of Shere Khan’s mail, and was trying and failing to get her mitts on it. </p><p>Shere Khan pressed two fingers down on the hilt and slid it even further out of her reach. (Whatever childrens’ inherent fascination was with his letter opener, he would never know.) And before his current company could <em> crucify </em> him again, he made sure to stay on top of things, regarding the second child.</p><p> “May I ask <em> your </em> name, dear?”</p><p>She met his gaze with that same blazé, hazardous mindset, rising to reveal the full of her face as Bagheera boosted her up to perch on the edge of the desk. </p><p>“How come your plant’s got teeth?” Was the first thing she said to him, in a tone that did not come across as a question full of childlike wonder, but an outright <em> demand </em>for an answer.</p><p>Shere Khan followed the girl’s pointer finger, glancing to the side, and nodded proudly to his spectacular array of flora. More specifically, his favourite among the collection. </p><p>“Those beautiful creatures are Dionaea muscipula. They’re of the Droseraceae family, so needless to say, they’re carnivorous.” </p><p>“What does carnee--....what’s <em> that </em>mean?” </p><p>“They feed on animals, namely insects. Mine are partial to crickets, but they’re known to enjoy the occasional roach or arachnid.” </p><p>“Would they eat me?”</p><p>“They would certainly make an attempt. But unfortunately, you’re too large for them to properly digest.”</p><p>“Aww...”</p><p>“I know. I, too, find it quite the travesty that they’re unable to handle more substantial meals.”</p><p>As Shere Khan had originally predicted, the girl <em> did </em> ask several questions, at a frankly manic pace. But….he could not say, in total honesty, that he considered them tedious. She was captivated with the nature of his venus flytraps and continued to interrogate him on everything from their eating habits to their peculiar colour. </p><p>Shere Khan answered her extensively, rattling off his encyclopedic knowledge at even the most basic of inquiries. He intended to keep everything, somewhat, in layman’s terms, on account of her age, but gradually forgot to maintain that simplicity as he got carried away with his explanations. </p><p>She still had to interrupt him occasionally to ask the definitions of certain words, but to her credit, she only did so half as often as one would expect a child would. It was evident that she was not <em> entirely </em> following him, but the extent of what she <em> could </em> understand was….impressive. </p><p>It was only after a minute or two that Shere Khan realized that he still hadn’t received her name. After finishing off a clarification on photosynthesis, he looked to Bagheera, to hopefully move this along. </p><p>Surprisingly, he caught the panther wearing an odd expression. Head tilted slightly to the side and, if one looked closely, his lip curled upwards in a soft, almost discreet smile. Not that it was an unfamiliar touch to Bagheera’s face, (Shere Khan was much accustomed to similar looks being directed at him) but the lack of context had him at a loss. Shere Khan had not done<em> anything </em>this time to warrant such a look </p><p>Upon meeting the tiger’s imploring eyes, Bagheera made a sound between a sigh and a chuckle and gestured to the girl, with a little flourish. </p><p>“Shere Khan, meet Molly Cunningham.” </p><p>“Oh. Cunningham, you say?” </p><p>Well, now, <em> that </em>made perfect sense. Suddenly, the insistent demeanor and resolute gaze didn’t seem quite so out of place on such a small girl. It was genetic. </p><p>Shere Khan scanned the length of Molly’s face, deciding that, yes, he could see a clear resemblance in the facial structure to the shrill voiced woman who had, on more than one occasion, barged into his office, figurative guns blazing, declaring him a leech on society.</p><p>She was a tetchy individual. Irritating, yes, but he couldn’t say that her theatrics were not comical. In an odd way, Shere Khan enjoyed her visits.</p><p>He also could not deny her brilliance as a businesswoman. She had somehow managed to scavenge out every opportunity to claw her way upwards, even with a competitor as colossal as the aerial branch of Khan Industries. Although, what that said about her daughter’s future development, was yet to be determined. </p><p>“Well, Miss Molly,” He smiled, tucking a curled hand beneath his chin. “I trust your mother is keeping well? Last I heard from her, she was in quite a nasty spot of debt.” </p><p>Molly Cunningham beamed. “Mommy’s fine. You know, she thinks you’re the worst.” </p><p>It was subtle, but he was observant enough to catch the way Bagheera’s stance seized up.</p><p>Shere Khan’s smile did not waver. “Is that so?”</p><p>Molly seemed to spot something of value, as she began shuffling across his desk, grabby hand outstretched. </p><p>Once again, Shere Khan had to swipe back his letter opener, just as her fingers brushed against the blade, and toss it in the nearest drawer. </p><p>She watched as he did so, face blank, before tipping her head up to meet his stare, with a pinched brow and her bottom lip jutted out. </p><p>“Mommy also says that someday the people are gonna take your head away.” </p><p>The effect was instantaneous.</p><p>Bagheera shrieked (<em>“Molly!”</em>) and Kit crumbled with stifled breaths of laughter.</p><p>One second, Molly was sitting directly under Shere Khan’s leer, and the next, she was gone. </p><p>Bagheera had hastily snatched her up by the underarms, swung her off the desk and placed her to the floor so abruptly, she was still wobbling as he stooped to scold her. </p><p>“Young lady, <em> what </em> did we say about saying that in front of him?”</p><p>Setting her hands on her hips, Molly squinted up at him, bemused. “How come it’s bad to say it <em>now?</em> When I said it before, you were laughing.” </p><p>Kit made a concerning sound concoction of a gasp, a choke and a tiny high pitched yelp. Shere Khan wondered if he were asphyxiating. </p><p>When the tiger flicked his eyes in the boy’s direction, he had already turned on his heel to hide his face, shoulders shaking. </p><p>How delightful that he was entertained.</p><p>“Is that true, Bagheera?” Shere Khan droned, fixing the panther with a frosty look. “You found my hypothetical execution….<em> amusing?”  </em></p><p>“No! Th-that’s not...I didn’t th--…” Posture snapping straight, Bagheera spluttered, mouth flapping open and shut, but a distinct lack of actual words coming out. His hands hovered, palms exposed, as if a structured sentence would fall into his grasp.</p><p>Shere Khan considered himself a connoisseur of classical music. However, he could not count one record among his collection that could bring him the same amount of pure joy as whatever nonsense noises that would spittle from a flustered Bagheera’s throat. It was simply unparalleled. </p><p>After a moment or two, Bagheera somewhat got a hold of himself. Gesturing wildly to Molly, he cried “She’s <em> seven! </em>” </p><p>He shot his frantic gaze at Shere Khan. “Oh come <em> on, </em> Khan<em>. </em> I was caught off guard! I-I didn’t find the <em> implication </em> of her statement funny, but you have to admit, a small child saying something like <em> that </em>, just out of the blue, is objectively hilarious,”</p><p>“Why, yes, of course. Can you not tell?” Not a muscle on Shere Khan’s grim expression twitched. “I’m in <em> stitches.</em>”</p><p>Bagheera’s bottom lip dropped and, as he gaped at him, Shere Khan eagerly watched the clarity return to his eyes. All at once, he regained the inexplicable ability of reading the inscrutable tiger, which he had been momentarily blinded to in his agitation. </p><p>Shere Khan was teasing him and Bagheera looked almost<em> enraged </em>that he did not immediately catch on to something so obvious.</p><p>It was Shere Khan’s split second grin of bared teeth that set him off, hissing <em> “Why you big--” </em> as he let loose another string of his incoherent, blustering noises. While the glare he threw the tiger held no real heat, he was <em> certainly </em> wound up.</p><p>Shere Khan noted, with amusement, that his tirade seemed particularly repressed today. Apparently, having two children present prevented him from dropping any of his more....colourful vocabulary. </p><p>“Calm yourself, Bagheera.” Said Shere Khan, in a particular voice he found extremely useful. A low reverberate that did not require volume to be heard over his much louder counterpart. </p><p>“To my understanding, our schedules are both cleared for the day. You should have plenty of time to chastise me, once we’re through engaging with our guests.” He waved an airy hand towards Kit and Molly. </p><p>Quite honestly, he liked where this was going and hoped Bagheera would put a pin in it for later. In his experience, teasing Bagheera was a gratifying game, but often kick-started a jumbled chain of events, this, that, and whatever, ultimately culminating in…activities that were best left confidential. </p><p>So, in conclusion…..<em> now was not the time.  </em></p><p>Strangely, Bagheera’s indignant face fell momentarily, only for his features to tighten again, this time with evident anxiety. </p><p>Shere Khan felt a prick of concern, as he was once again reminded of how Bagheera had stormed in, high strung and fidgeting, with something unpleasant running wildfire in that miraculous brain of his. </p><p>“Well, about that…” Muttered Bagheera, eyes flitting from Shere Khan to the children.</p><p>Shere Khan could not recall ever receiving good news from a statement beginning with <em> “Well, about that,” </em></p><p>He braced himself.</p><p>Bagheera cleared his throat, taking a brisk stride around Shere Khan’s desk, stopping by the tiger’s side.</p><p>“Baloo and Ms. Rebecca left this morning for...a social engagement and were <em> supposed </em> to have returned before the children were out of school. However…. as you can probably guess, they, um,” </p><p>Shere Khan didn’t miss how Bagheera spared a fleeting glance towards a noticeably scowling Kit. “They’re experiencing a slight delay.”</p><p>“It’s nothing to fret over, really,” Bagheera was quick to reassure, even if nobody had asked. “They’ll be home eventually, I’m sure.”</p><p>“I see.” Said Shere Khan, observing Kit and Molly, the latter of which now dealing with a vine of one of his flytraps coiling around her ankle. She was responding with fascinated delight, as Kit attempted to untangle her. </p><p>“Well then, I hope for their safe return. Tell me, where do you intend on leaving the children until then? I have to wonder why you dragged them all the way up here to visit me. I’m afraid there aren’t any nearby daycares on this side of Cape Suzette.” </p><p>Bagheera, stubbornly not making eye contact, rolled open one of the desk drawers and rummaged around for God knows what. “Then I suppose we’ll just have to make do without one.”</p><p>A pregnant pause followed. </p><p>Shere Khan had a reputation for being lightning quick on the uptake, regarding whatever outlandish wrench in the system that was thrown his way. Everything from air pirates hijacking his planes to alleged doppelgangers running around his mining operations. He was on top of it all, with a cool head and a budding solution already in the works. </p><p>(Sidenote: He was peeved that his patience in such matters went sorely underappreciated.)</p><p>However, <em> this </em> took him more than a second or two to process (Practically a snail’s pace for Shere Khan.) because, obviously, he must have misinterpreted what Bagheera had just said to him. This was ignoring the fact that Shere Khan never misinterpreted <em> anything, </em> in hopes that he could be wrong for once in his life. </p><p>It was not making any sense to him, for a number of reasons, but most prominently because <em> this was their weekend off. </em> It had been Bagheera’s idea in the first place and he had spent the last few weeks giddily anticipating it, so clearly, he wouldn’t….he <em> couldn’t, </em> he….</p><p>But as Shere Khan eyed the two interlopers that had been so unceremoniously presented to him, the fact of the matter seated itself with a begrudging acceptance. </p><p>Suffice to say, Bagheera had been correct. Shere Khan was <em> not </em>happy about this.</p><p>He inhaled deeply, releasing the breath in a barely audible growl. The rush of frustration formed tension in his fingers, which he promptly flexed and then--</p><p>Something snatched his wrists, raising them just an inch from the desk, and then dropped them again, to rest on a surface that was <em> not </em> polished mahogany. </p><p>Shere Khan blinked, incredulous, at the narrow board wrapped in sisal carpet, that Bagheera had withdrawn from the drawer and swiftly slipped beneath the tiger’s hands before he could do any damage to his desk. </p><p>Meeting Shere Khan’s affronted look, Bagheera knotted his arms defiantly. </p><p>“Oh, don’t look at me like that, Khan.” He said, exasperated. “You promised you’d start using the scratching board when you’re stressed. As you already <em> know, </em> having the desk sanded down every few weeks is an unnecessary expense, if you could just learn to use the--” </p><p>“Yes, my mind is not so muddled as to forget a discussion from mere days ago. <em> Thank you</em>, Bagheera.” </p><p>“<em>Thank you, </em> Bagheera, he says.” The panther mimicked. “I’m fully capable of detecting sarcasm. But just so you’re aware, you’ll be saying that with utmost sincerity in a few months, once you see how much money you’ve saved.” </p><p>“The repairs are not <em> that </em>expensive--”</p><p>“Hey, uh, Bagheera?”</p><p>Shere Khan and Bagheera broke off their quarrel to see an uncertain looking Kit, idly tapping his hands against the edge of the desk. </p><p>“Not to interrupt, uh.” He glanced between the two warily. “<em>This.</em> But, now that we’ve met with Shere Khan, you think we could go upstairs and get that snack like you said? I’m kinda hungry.” </p><p>“Yeah,” Piped up Molly. She was laying on her back, unperturbed, as a vine gradually tugged her across the tiled floor. “And I think your teeth plant is hungry too.” </p><p>Shere Khan’s claws unsheathed. </p><p>Upstairs. </p><p>Anyone remotely familiar with the building’s layout could confirm that Shere Khan’s office was considered its peak. That is to say, it was an exclusive space, but a handful of employees were at least known to have walked the floor once or twice and could attest to its existence. </p><p>The floor above the office was rarely discussed, as it was widely accepted that nobody in the building, sans Shere Khan himself, would ever set sights upon it.</p><p>A<em> personal </em>quarters. Ergo referring to it as a prohibited floor would be a gigantic understatement. </p><p>And now there were children, ever so <em> nonchalantly </em> asking for Bagheera to escort them up there, as if it were a public playground.</p><p>He tore into his scratching board. </p><p>Bagheera offered Shere Khan an apologetic grimace, a promise to be back for a private conversation once he had gotten the children settled, and a reassuring squeeze to the tiger’s shoulder. With that, he was off, sweeping Kit and Molly out of the office with him. </p><p>By the time he returned, twenty-three minutes later, Shere Khan had mellowed. Well, he had gotten the profuse urge to shred out of his system, at least. The scratching board was more satisfying to dig into than wood, but he was still debating if his pride would allow him to admit that just yet. </p><p>Upon reflection, he had come to the conclusion that Bagheera wouldn’t have sprung something like this on him without a rational reason. Therefore, he had decided to patiently await the explanation before he made any attempt at lambasting him.</p><p>This led to a lengthy stare-down between the two, with no clear end in sight, until Shere Khan relented.</p><p>“Bagheera.” He sighed, breaking the silence. “I believe it is safe to say that we know each other to an intimate extent. However, I don’t think we have yet crossed the threshold into full-length telepathic conversations. In a few years, perhaps.”</p><p>A little of the unease melted out of Bagheera’s shoulders. His lip twitched. “I was waiting for you to speak first.”</p><p>“And I, you.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.” Bagheera’s eyes dropped to the floor, weight shifting from foot to foot. “I just feel a bit out of my element with this one. We’ve never had this sort of dilemma before, so I wasn’t certain how you’d react. Of course, I knew you’d be upset. But I was planning to let you talk, so I’d get a reading on <em> how </em> upset.”</p><p>“I won’t lie to you.” Said Shere Khan. “Our penthouse has been invaded by children, who are undoubtedly up there peppering our belongings with grubby, little fingerprints. And, to my understanding, our plans for the day have been put on the backburner because said children are now our responsibility. Despite me never giving authorization to have them here in the first place.”</p><p>Shere Khan tucked his clasped hands beneath his chin. “I would say you’re intelligent enough to estimate how upset I am.” </p><p>Bagheera’s ears flattened, his bottom lip wavering, as if to speak, before it drew tight in a firm line. </p><p>The abashed look gave Shere Khan’s heart a slight jab, one of those reminders that, despite his intentions, he was not handling Bagheera’s feelings correctly. </p><p>“I will admit that I may have just given you the wrong idea. In my efforts to be honest, I simply came across as irate.”</p><p>The panther glanced up, surprised.</p><p>“Bagheera,” His tone softened. “I’m not angry with <em> you.</em> In regards to the situation we’re in, yes, I’m….frustrated. But not with you personally.”</p><p> “I wouldn’t hold it to you, if you were.” Bagheera tilted his head to Shere Khan, almost imploring. </p><p>“Believe me, I never hesitate to say if your anger is irrational. But in this case….” He shrugged. “You have the right. Considering I talked you into a whole weekend off, managed to get you somewhat enthusiastic, then dropped <em>this </em>on you. Honestly, I feel terrible.” </p><p>Shere Khan quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t recall ever expressing<em> enthusiasm </em> for this weekend.”</p><p>“You didn’t have to,” More of Bagheera’s tension fell away, as he flashed a toothy grin. “But I still knew you were anticipating it, even if you were fighting against doing so.” </p><p>“Fighting against….anticipating…?” Shere Khan muttered, uncomprehending, watching as Bagheera rounded to his side and perched himself on the desk. </p><p>“Correct.” He nodded sharply, popping the pad of his finger to Shere Khan’s nose. “It’s why you’re under the impression that you only agreed for my sake.” </p><p>“Are-- Are you implying that it’s <em> not </em> for your sake?” This prompted a disbelieving snort out of Shere Khan. “Because I am certain that I have expressed, many times, the lengths I would go to for your happiness and I--”</p><p>“Yes, yes, <em> I know.</em> And I’m not saying that it wasn’t very sweet of you. But <em> please </em> hush a moment,” Bagheera smirked, pressing his hands to Shere Khan’s face, as if to squeeze his mouth shut. “What I’m saying is, you have convinced yourself that you are only doing so for <em> my </em>happiness, because you feel an inherent guilt about anticipating something that is unproductive.”</p><p>“Well, I wouldn’t say....” Shere Khan cut himself off at Bagheera’s challenging look, instead opting to lock his narrowed eyes on the papers that scattered his desk. He had enough experience to know that if he argued a point, Bagheera would retort impeccably, usually with an abundance of evidence, proving him to be in the right. </p><p>Though Shere Khan was loathe to admit it, Bagheera had a track record for being right. He figured if the two of them could last to celebrate their tenth anniversary, he would be grateful enough to relinquish a vocal conceding of that skill. </p><p>But for the time being, he communicated his acknowledgement through quiet grunts, as Bagheera repeatedly swore that he would drag the words out of him one day. </p><p>“But if you must, think of it this way,” Bagheera offered, voice bright. “You’ve been running yourself ragged these last few months. A weekend of relaxation should leave you rejuvenated, thus amping your work performance by at least twenty percent. So, ultimately, you should consider this vacation an investment of your time.”</p><p>Shere Khan watched Bagheera ramble on, his conviction so endearing and his smile so wide, that it occurred to him just how the panther’s persuasion had been successful in the first place. It certainly was not the argument itself, but he had spent several hours preparing it, so Shere Khan did not have the heart to tell him. </p><p>“So, tell me, tell me,”</p><p>Shere Khan’s eyelids fluttered as he felt Bagheera’s forefinger rapping against his temple. </p><p>“Is that a reasonable enough concept for <em>this</em> sort of brain to wrap itself around?” </p><p>Shere Khan cracked a smile, raising his own hand to brush across Bagheera’s knuckles, before waving him away. “‘Relaxation’ is an interesting choice of words, considering our…” His eyes flicked overhead. “Company.”</p><p>Bagheera tutted dismissively. “Ah, don’t worry. They’ll only be here for a day.” A pause. “Probably.” </p><p>It took a moment for the statement to sink in, contentment slipping from the tiger’s features.</p><p>“Probably.” Repeated Shere Khan. There was no question in his tone, but an icy prompting for Bagheera to <em> please </em>elaborate.</p><p>Bagheera had already hopped off the desk, trying to curb how his hands had instinctively gone to fidget at the hem of his shirt by smoothing down the fabric. He became suddenly engrossed with Shere Khan’s window screens. </p><p>“You know, you should really open these.” He said hurriedly. “Not only is daylight good for your plants <em> and </em>your mental health, but do you have any idea how much bacteria there is in dust particles? And studies have shown that UV light is very effective at--”</p><p>
  <em> “Bagheera.” </em>
</p><p>Shere Khan swiveled around in his chair to view Bagheera, who stood with his back to him. The panther’s rigid tail twitched, as he heaved an exhausted sigh. </p><p>“Well, it’s just that…. as you know, Baloo and Ms. Rebecca have been delayed. Who’s to say how long they’ll be?”</p><p>“What sort of social engagement is this?” </p><p>Bagheera groaned, throwing him an obvious look over his shoulder, as if declaring Shere Khan a common fool. </p><p>“They’ve been kidnapped by the mob, Khan.”</p><p>“........Ah.”</p><p>One of Bagheera’s hands closed into a fist, knocking testily against the windowpane, while the other rubbed circles into his creased forehead. </p><p>“Baloo….called me up,” He said, voice only as steady as a man could manage when attempting to hold his thin layer of sanity together. </p><p>“Careless as ever, I might add, and he asked if I could please collect Kit and Molly from school and hold on to them, until they could successfully nonsense their way out of this mess. For the record, his timing was so abrupt that I didn’t have time to warn you in advance, before I had to run across town and fetch the kids.”</p><p>“Ah, so, my less than pleasant surprise was the fault of Baloo.” Shere Khan mused aloud. “It always does trace back to him in the end.”</p><p>“He wouldn’t answer any of my questions concerning his whereabouts, as apparently there was a gun to his head.” The undertones of Bagheera’s voice were getting progressively more manic, as if he, too, was just learning the details, with every word he spoke. “I could also hear Ms. Rebecca, loudly threatening to sue her kidnappers, and/or castrate them.”</p><p>Resting an elbow on his armrest, Shere Khan’s supported his head with two fingers to his temple. “Dare I ask how this happened?” </p><p>“They had business to attend to with Ms. Rebecca’s cousin and somewhere along the line, she and Baloo were mistaken for the boss of a rival mob and her accomplice.”</p><p>Shere Khan hummed, taking in all this information with a slow nod of his head. “I imagine threatening castration on those gentlemen is not helping Ms. Cunningham convince them she is<em> not </em>a mob boss.”</p><p>Bagheera didn’t answer, only squeezing his eyes shut tight as he pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“Also, If I may say so, this scenario sounds ridiculously unlikely.” </p><p>“Yes, Shere Khan.” Bagheera snapped. “That would the essence of a typical Friday for Baloo. Please keep up.” </p><p>“Well. <em> You’re </em> certainly wired.” Shere Khan remarked. He revolved his chair back against the desk, and began sorting the excess papers into more presentable piles. </p><p>“Sorry, sorry,” </p><p>Shere Khan shrugged, unfazed. </p><p>Bagheera was known to have a short fuse and emotions that bounced around so fast, it would give most people whiplash. But Shere Khan, ironically, found a sense of stability in the unpredictable. In contrast to his own reserved, indifferent nature, the panther was ridiculously opinionated on…..just about everything. It certainly provided an alternate angle in how he viewed things. </p><p>When Bagheera was vexed, it rarely lasted long, though Shere Khan was perfectly content to let him rant and rave until he had calmed himself down. He would admit that he got an occasional chuckle out of whatever witticism he would, in his fuming state, hurl at him.</p><p>“If you’re worried about Baloo’s wellbeing,” Shere Khan began, after brief silence. “I can assure you he will emerge from this experience alive and well. From what I have heard, he is exceedingly difficult to kill. Death by mob due to an absurd misunderstanding, would be rather anticlimactic, don’t you agree?” </p><p>He managed to get dry chuckle out of Bagheera, despite his nerves. </p><p>“It’s not that I’m worried about his life. We all know that bear will not go down. I’m just <em> frustrated. </em> In all the years I’ve known him, he always seems to be stumbling into messes like this. Do you see? <em> This </em> is why I was trying not to get into this, I knew I’d start thinking about how I’m inevitably going to murder him one day. He’s just such a….such an <em> oaf!” </em></p><p>“Hmm,” Shere Khan glanced between two forms, debating if they should be clipped together, for their brief snippets of correlating information. “He is a bit of an oaf, isn’t he?” </p><p>“Ah, don’t call him an oaf, Khan.” Bagheera immediately shot back. “He doesn’t deserve it, not really.” </p><p>From where he stood, Bagheera did not catch how Shere Khan rolled his eyes to the high heavens. </p><p>“Of course, Bagheera.” He drawled. “How very insensitive of me.”</p><p>After a moment of burning holes into the floor, Bagheera wandered over to Shere Khan’s side and, seemingly needing something to do with his hands, began assisting him with organizing papers.</p><p>“Are the children aware of their parents’ situation?” </p><p>Bagheera’s brow furrowed, pointing a warning finger at Shere Khan. “No, and they<em> won’t be</em>. Kit, especially. I was given specific instructions to keep him in the dark.” </p><p>“Does he have a tendency to fret?” Shere Khan waved a stapler in a circular motion, lightly dodging as Bagheera attempted to snatch it from him, grunting as it was finally pried out of his grip.</p><p>“I don’t know the details.” Bagheera pressed the stapler down on a corner and thwacked the stack of paper against Shere Khan’s shoulder, before slipping it in a drawer. “But there’s been some tension between them and Kit, as of late. The most I know is that Baloo is no longer so lenient on letting him miss days of school to be his navigator. So, as you can imagine, Kit has been feeling a little left out. God, if he knew what they managed to get themselves into, he would….I assume he’d hit the roof.”</p><p>“Well, now, we can’t have that.” Said Shere Khan. “If we’re proceeding with this babysitting ordeal, I’d much prefer to deal with children that are planted firmly on the floor.” </p><p>Bagheera laughed. </p><p>“Is that why the boy has become so waspish? Family troubles?” </p><p>“If you’re referring to <em> your </em>most recent experience with him, then no.” Bagheera said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “That was just because he was insulted by what you said. And wouldn’t you be too if someone didn’t remember your name?”</p><p>“Forgetting <em> my </em>name is a far more unforgivable offense. But to simply forget a child’s is--”</p><p>“Ah ah! I won’t hear it. Now, you will store away the name ‘Kit Cloudkicker’ in that giant filing cabinet in your brain, if you know what’s good for you. And if you’re running short on space, perhaps throw out some petty grievances.” </p><p>Shere Khan met Bagheera’s sweetly sardonic smile with a flat look, before turning away lest he lose the game with an involuntary expression crack. </p><p>“I will admit,” Bagheera continued. “That some of Kit’s attitude <em> probably </em> comes with age. He’s thirteen now, you know.”</p><p>“I hardly believe that his personality would change so drastically just by turning thirteen. </p><p>“You’d be surprised.” Bagheera hummed, staring into the distance for a moment, with a weathered expression. “He’s still the same boy, of course. Sweet, intelligent, a responsible big brother. But, ah, the moods have been hitting him. He’s growing into himself and there might be a few unpleasant side effects of all that. You remember how it is, being thirteen?” </p><p>Shere Khan did not answer immediately, but rather made himself out to be distracted by something written on a form. </p><p>“I’m afraid I don’t recall most of my childhood.”</p><p>“You liar.” Bagheera scoffed, breaking the distance to loom into Shere Khan’s bubble. “I know for a fact that you remember every fight you won, every fight you <em> lost </em> and every stolen mince pie that my mother left on the windowsill.”</p><p>“She…..knew that was me?” </p><p>“Of course she did! Why do you think she started leaving them on the windowsill for you? You wouldn’t come inside when invited, so she had to use reverse psychology.” </p><p>Shere Khan managed to keep his expression cool for a grand total of of four seconds before it all dissolved with a disbelieving chuckle. </p><p>Bagheera laughed along with him, tilting the tiger’s chin upwards to meet his eyes. “Khan, can you please do something for me?”</p><p>“You’ll find I usually do.”</p><p>“Any memories you <em> do </em>have of being a child? I’m going to ask that you please tap into them. You’ll need that sort of awareness for today.”</p><p>“And why is that?” Asked Shere Khan, idly trailing a finger across the curve of Bagheera’s jaw. </p><p>“You’re a charismatic man, don’t get me wrong.”</p><p>Shere Khan drew himself up a little taller. Smug.</p><p>“But you’re lacking in social skills <em> outside </em>of business settings.”</p><p>No longer smug.</p><p>“And may I remind you, we’ll be spending the day looking after children. So, I figure if compassion does not come naturally to you, then you may have an easier time connecting with a child if you remember how it felt to be one.”</p><p>Bagheera’s voice was gentle, but not condescending. He spoke in such a way that enunciated a genuine attempt to make this whole day roll by smooth and pleasant for Shere Khan.</p><p>Unfortunately, while he didn’t have it in him to reject Bagheera’s suggestion, he knew he would not be attempting to deep dive just to find a memory of a frankly cringe-inducing little boy, that he was reluctant to call a past self.</p><p>“As I’ve stated, that time in my life is a bit of a haze.”</p><p>Bagheera shrugged airily. “Well, give it a go anyway!” He chirped, grasping for Shere Khan’s hand with both of his own. He presented it flat, pressing his thumb against the palm to draw out the claws. </p><p><em> “Shing,” </em> His voice rose a pitch as he said it, grinning. Providing a sound effect for his claws every time they made an appearance was something Shere Khan had, once upon a time, called annoying. So of course, Bagheera had sworn to say it as often as possible.</p><p>“Speaking of dealing with kids, I wonder if we’ll have to childproof these.”</p><p>Bagheera, encouraged by Shere Khan’s strained look of unamusement, grinned wider. </p><p>“How do you feel about wearing oven mitts?”</p><p>“You’re not funny.” Stated Shere Khan, excellent at keeping his lip from twitching.</p><p>“I’m hilarious, I think. And I know you think so too.”</p><p>Before he could retort with a sharp “Incorrect.” Bagheera had already bundled up Shere Khan’s face, pressing his lips to his forehead. Just above the gap between his eyes, a known disorienting spot that always left him blinking hard. So, obviously, a favourite spot of Bagheera’s. </p><p>“I shouldn’t leave Kit to supervise Molly for too long, so I’ll have to head back upstairs. Will you be joining us, Mr. Khan?”</p><p>“Eventually. If you don’t mind, I think I’ll meditate here until I’m….prepared.”</p><p>Bagheera nodded, moving to leave before his step stuttered a little once he broke away from the desk. He turned, signature Bagheera caution written on his face. “Again, about today, I’m sorry. I really am. Are you really alright with this?” </p><p>Shere Khan simply turned his palms up. A helpless gesture. “I have accepted that there is nothing else to be done. I’ll tolerate it, to the best of my abilities.” </p><p>“You might end up liking the children.”</p><p>The look Shere Khan shot Bagheera was worth five paragraph of counter arguments.</p><p>“Alright, alright.” Bagheera raised his hands, pacifying. He then quirked a smile that Shere Khan couldn’t quite pinpoint as sweet or mischievous. "Well, maybe <em> they’ll </em> like <em> you. </em>”</p><p>Shere Khan snorted. “I doubt it. I am not exactly the most warm and cuddly individual.”</p><p>Bagheera’s mouth flew open, an eager response on the tip of his tongue.</p><p>Shere Khan’s steely stare practically <em> dared </em>him to proceed, to which he promptly clamped his mouth shut, amusement still sparking in his eyes as he turned on his heel and strode out of the office.</p><p>Shere Khan was left alone with the three constants in his life since the tail end of his childhood. The three Ps: Papers, pens and plants. Not too long ago, he had reintroduced a fourth P to his day-to-day in the form of a panther. </p><p>And just for today, they would be squeezing in a fifth P. He could not say with honesty that he was thrilled about the fifth P, but he was handling it with excellent grace.</p><p>Today, Shere Khan would be sharing his living space with somebody else’s <em> progenies. </em></p>
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